Joy Through Diversity
by Agent Midnight
Summary: 1+2/2+1, 4+R, 5+M, AU, POV (Duo)-- Duo explains how different each of his friends are.


My name is, and always has been Duo L. Maxwell. Born in raised in the outskirts of a small town in America, my family doesn't have much. I'm fifteen, as of right now, and will be sixteen in about four months and twenty-two days. Not that anyone's counting. My house isn't something you would go around bragging about, definitely. It's not big, fancy, and it doesn't have much value to it, but it has been my home since the day I was brought into the world, and it'll be my home until I can find a better place for myself.  
  
My father, or Mr. Maxwell to you, is 100% American, like my mother, so they produced an 100% American boy... me. Anyway, my dad has never really had a good break in his life. He's worked at many jobs, has managed to keep his family alive and reasonably healthy, has put food on our table every damn night of our lives even if it is just Mac-and-Cheese, and managed to keep his relationship bright and strong with my mother. Through all the hardships of their life together, all they can do is try their best to shrug it off and comfort each other until the really bad times fade into a dull nothing.  
  
Sometimes I find my mother crying in her bedroom when she doesn't think anyone is home. She cries for me because she feels like she can't give me everything a growing teenager needs to have. What she doesn't realize is that her and my dad have given me love and friendship all my life and I wouldn't dare exchange that for a big house or expensive electronics. Sure, we have our problems like every other family, but we can never stay mad at each other for very long. With my grandparents on both sides gone and the rest of the relatives not wanting anything to do with the lower-class Maxwells, we're all that's left of our family. Us and our dog make up the Maxwell ties and the Davis ties, Davis being my mom.  
  
My mom and dad both have to work to send me through school, and even now, I go to a rather sketchy High School where it seems like any moment I might get shot or stabbed. It doesn't bother me, though, because my best friend isn't as fortunate as some of my other friends and he actually requested that his parents send him to the school I'm at so we can keep each other company. He lives next door to me, but I'll get back to him.  
  
I don't have many friends right now, but the ones I do have mean the world to me. We're all so very different that it's so strange we like each other as much as we do now. We all don't live in the same area, so it was by some odd grace of god that we accidentally met each other. It was all through simple things, too. Whether it was from crashing into each other at the supermarket, or crashing into each other while rollerblading, or crashing into each other while turning corners, we just all managed to meet up through a series of accidents and connections. Then, we got to know each other and slowly became friends.  
  
After we had been friends, we all learned the truth behind all of our pasts and presents. Where we all lived, what we all did, which schools we go to. Interests and the likes. The dirty secrets were eventually revealed out in the open, but no matter how many bad traits we all have, together we have this strong bind of friendship that probably won't ever be broken.  
  
I don't know if I could live without them all in my life.  
  
Trowa Barton is a teenage jokebox, going to the nicest private school in the area. That instantly sets him apart from myself, because I have to suffer through the torturous wonder of public High School with nothing but my best friend to keep me sane and in one piece. Whenever we gather for our let's-do-our-separate-homework-from-separate-schools-together meetings, he's always done in a flash while the rest of us are dawdling around, myself specifically trying to work through Algebra. Never was my top subject. Eventually, the boy comes over and helps me with my homework, and I swear to god he will one day be a teacher from the way he helps me out. He'd make one damn fine teacher, too. Algebra crap never really made much sense to me until Trowa took the time to patiently explain it to me, even going so far as to admit he hadn't liked going through Algebra, either.  
  
His parents had been divorced for about three years when his father got in a terrible car accident while trying to drive to his new home while intoxicated. The impact didn't kill him, but he did pass on the ambulance ride to the hospital; if they were five minutes closer to the emergency room, he may have had a chance, but they weren't. And that's the way life goes, so says Trowa.  
  
Mrs. Barton had been mortified, and had basically locked herself up in the house for about a month and a half before Trowa had to force her to go outside and get to the doctor for a check up. His half-sister Cathy had cried, but not very long since Mr. Barton had just been her step-father, and not her actual father. Cathy's father had ditched her and her mother about seventeen years ago, when Cathy had just been born. A couple of years later, Mrs. Barton had sought comfort in Mr. Barton and they spawned Trowa.  
  
Calm, quiet, hilarious Trowa.  
  
Somewhere through his years of shyness, he opened up to his friends and we got to see what a really fun guy he actually is, but as soon as we encounter a stranger, he's quiet with his shoulders slumped, walking behind us until the crowd of people leaves us alone again. If not facing strangers, he's bouncing around and joining me as we sing oldies-but-goodies at the top of our lungs. If I had met him as a child, and he didn't already hold the title of best friend to Wufei, then I think there would have been a very good chance that we would have hit it off and become instant best friends. But, the best friend titles are already taken for both of us, and we're not at the top of the other's list.   
  
Trowa's the most ambitious of our group, actually putting voice to the dreams he has for himself. Granted, and sad to say, they are a lot better than mine. He wants to be a doctor and help all the sick people, maybe even find a cure for something and become famous; I want to get out of the dump that is my home and move my family to someplace nice. I've never been able to think about what I want when all my hopes and dreams are in the same shape as my dumpy house.  
  
Trowa Barton wants to be something, and he's going to be something, dammit. Whether it's a doctor or a gas station clerk, he's going to be the best at whatever he does in the future, and he knows this. It's his dream; he has to know it. He wants to go to college and get married, maybe have a kid once everything is perfect for him. He's going to make his dreams a reality, no matter how the obstacles ahead may try and stop him.  
  
He's motivation for the rest of us to try and be something, too.   
  
Chang Wufei lives exactly three houses down and across the street from Trowa, making those two the border-line middle-classies of our small group. His house is decently sized, and he's got excellent stuff in that place. You could fit both mine and Heero's houses somewhere in the structure of that boy's home, and have room to spare to build a damn indoor swimming pool. Now, I don't know if this means his house is extremely large for his location, or if Heero and I really both live in houses the size of trailers, but I would kill my grandmother--if I still had one, of course--to live in that place with my family, if only for a few hours to call it our own.  
  
Wu's dad is an ex-Marine who is the funniest bastard I would have ever imagined meeting. He's a sarcastic, witty, all-around male and he truly enjoys his son's friends when they come over to visit. My parents don't even like to hear me ramble on as much as Mr. Chang does; he lets me go off on theories and beliefs, and then follows mine with his own. That man is such a great guy to argue with, too. What I don't get, though, is that he absolutely adores chess, and yet my dog could whoop his ass up and down their even sidewalks at it.  
  
Mrs. Chang-- the most polite, sophisticated woman you will ever lay your eyes on. She's beautiful, kind, feminine, and stunning, but she knows how to kick her shoes off and drink beer with the rest of them. I remember one day I rode my bike over there to give Wu his Biology book back, and she was sprawled out on the couch with a Bud Lite as she watched ice hockey on ESPN. Whenever one of the players on the team she was rooting for got hurt, the beer would slam on the coffee table and she would curse softly to herself until the player got up. If a player on the opposing team got injured, however, she would leap to her feet and she'd be storming around the house, barefoot, yelling with glee.  
  
Wufei's spunky girlfriend, Meilan, lives at the Chang house. It happened one day when Meilan ran away from home after her father had come home drunk and started to take it out on the women of the family. Meilan's mother told her to run to safety and call the police before her father did something too drastic. And the first place she could think of that was remotely safe, where she wouldn't dare worry about being in danger, was at Wufei's.  
  
They had taken her in with open arms, and somewhere along the lines, she had started staying there, her fear at returning home so strong, Mrs. Chang had a long talk with her mother and they settled things out. Meilan was welcome at the Chang's until her father either got help, or left the house. They wouldn't send the poor girl back to a house of abuse, and Meilan's mother was completely for it.  
  
It's a good thing they allowed her to stay there, anyway, because Wu's and Meilan's relationship had been in a very fragile stage for quite some time. Ever since Meilan's been there, though, that loose string has been pulled so tight, I think one day they may want to marry each other. When they're old enough, and ready for the future, those two may very well show how much they love each other through vows.  
  
They're perfect for each other, but of course we all tease Wu for being so lovey-dovey with the girl.  
  
Quatre Raberba Winner is the uppie of the group. While Wu and Tro live in middle-class suburbia and Heero and I live in lower-class parktown, Quat is a definite upper-class citizen, if only for the sheer amount of money his family has in their pale palms. His dining room can fit my whole neighborhood in it with plenty of room to spare. He's got everything one could ever dream of owning; the boy's fifteen like the rest of us, and already has three cars with his name on their titles. I don't even think he's gone out and gotten his permit, yet, which means those cars aren't going to be much use to him if he can't drive until his later years.  
  
His father is in charge of a multi-billion coorperation, a real handsome businessman who knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it, and how he's going to get it. I can say one thing, though, if he ever ran for president of the U.S. of A., I'd vote for him in a flash, and then go back in disguise and try to vote for him again. Mr. Winner knows how to get on everyone's good side, and if need arises, people's bad side. I've never seen him do anything remotely selfish when it comes to business; he always lets all his workers have a say in what may be good for the company. If one of his employees has a grand idea, he'll use it and give all the credit to that worker, no matter what their rank; they can be the janitor and have a good idea, and suddenly they lose their janitorial status and move up to join the ranks of the millionaires. Anything but greedy, my friends, anything but greedy.  
  
Que's mom is a traditional housewife if I ever did see one. She's tall and blonde, a trait that is well-suited in the Winner family genes, but highly intelligent. In my opinion, she's a freakin' genius when it comes to educational stuff. I think Quatre said she had been a Chemist for about twelve long years of her life before she started popping children out like a Pez dispenser. Still healthy as a button, though, through the birthing of seven siblings and the blonde wonder himself. Quatre is the third oldest in the family, having an older brother and an older sister at the age of seventeen and nineteen. Below his age rank, is a fourteen year old, a twelve year old, two nine year olds, and an adorable four year old.  
  
Cute as puppies, the Winner family.  
  
My friend is the mastermind rebel, though. He's as polite as a politician when he's around his family and his family's friends, but when he's alone with the five of us, he's one of the nastiest people you will ever meet. He's very fond of rude riddles, and knows every single one of the dead baby jokes, even having made up a couple himself. The boy smokes about a pack a day, laughing at us and saying that his lungs could be better even though he is so young, but he's addicted. He always leaves his house wearing nice khakis and button-up shirts, but then he meets up with us and ducks around a car, changing into the spare clothing he had in his always-present backpack. Then, out emerges this black-clad hoodie with a cigarette hanging along the shell of his ear, one perched in his lips, smoke billowing up towards the sky. Torn jeans that show just slight glimpses of his legs as he moves with long strides to keep up with us. Even though he is the shortest, sometimes we have to jog to catch up with him.  
  
His girlfriend is two years older than him; a real gem. She's a blonde bombshell who lives down the street from him in another huge-ass mansion where she used to stay with her recently-divorced parents. Her father took the house while her mother left, and she chose to stay with her dad because of the housing issue and the fact that she couldn't leave Quatre behind. They don't say much, but we all know those two aren't virgins anymore. They radiate light whenever they're together, and Que always seems to be watching her ass sway, never letting her walk behind him.  
  
Oh, if only his parents could see him with us.  
  
Moving along to my best friend.  
  
Heero "Skylar" Yuy is my next door neighbor, and I've known the bastard since we were both wee babes at the age of five. They moved in four weeks after our old neighbors moved out to bigger and better things, and we hit it off instantly. Well, okay, that's not true. Our personalities didn't blend together quickly to where we both liked each other, but their was a swing set close to where we lived that no kid really ever used except for myself, and we both liked to swing. We would race each other to the swingset, our intent was violence if we didn't get their first, but we always ended up pushing the winner. The secret behind those small acts of kindness was to see if the other would fall off and break something so the loser could have the swing all to themselves as the winner cried in pain.  
  
Morbid little things, weren't we?  
  
Eventually, that swing jealously turned into friendship, and we shared.  
  
Heero's house is a skimpy little thing like mine, with two bedrooms the size of closets, about four closets the size of a door, one small bathroom, a kitchen only one person can move around in, and a sitting room that has a 19-inch television being one of the few expensive things belonging to the Yuy's. For his fourteenth birthday, Heero got a black laptop that he has never once bashed because of its semi-slow connection speed. His father had worked hard to get him that, and Heero cherished it for that fact alone. Of all the other things they could have used, his dad wanted him to have something that he really wanted and may someday really need.  
  
Mr. Yuy tries his damndest to make the best of the low-class situation, taking all his money and saving it, promising his son and wife that one day, they'll get to have a house closer to Heero's friends. One day, his father promised, we will be a happy middle-class family, where we won't have to worry about losing the little things we do have now. One day, we won't have to work so hard for food and electricity. One day, we'll get to live life.  
  
Mrs. Yuy is a doll of a woman with the most infectious laugh I've ever heard from anyone. She a gorgeous brunette from the likes of Japan, having moved to America after she had met the All-American Mr. Yuy and fell in love with his rowdy antics and roughened demeanor. When they met by accident along the streets of Tokyo, him on vacation, her going to her small job, she knew she could leave behind her old life in an instant to be with her love. She's the kind who knows everything to say to make people cheer up and join her in her never-changing good mood. With dreams of having a daughter, she had nicknamed Heero "Skylar", because that's the name she would have wanted for her daughter if she had been given one. Instead, she had been given Heero, and lost her only chance for a little girl to put bows and ribbons in her hair. Lost her only chance to go dress shopping for her daughter's prom. Lost her only chance for the one thing she wanted most.  
  
Of course, she loves Heero greatly, and she has offered the guys and I reasonable fuel to keep calling him a woman, but sometimes he tells me he wish he had made his mother happy. Sometimes he's so upset with himself that all he can do is pray he had never been born and his mother had had a daughter, instead.  
  
When they fight on those rare occasions, he brings that up and his mother cries, screaming at him that she loves him and would never wish such a thing. Their screams would filter through my open bedroom window as I would wait for Heero to join me at his own. Our rooms are across from each other, so we can talk most nights.  
  
His mother is perfectly capable of having more children, and so is his dad, but they just don't want another kid. Mr. Yuy's morals are too strong, and he constantly feels that it would be wrong to bring another child into that broken down house with barely enough room to hold the three of them. His mother wouldn't want to wish that upon anyone else, either.  
  
One day, I was going out to check the mail and Mrs. Yuy was sitting on their porch, rocking in a porchswing and tearing small pieces off one of the dandelions that adorn the front yards. She had called me over and had me sit with her, offering me half of the orange that was going unnoticed, which I declined.  
  
You boys are going to get out of here, she promised. You'll have great lives...  
  
I can still feel her tears against my shoulder as she pulled me into her comforting embrace and held me, her soft sobs wracking her small body with gentle trembles.  
  
If anything else, I'll make sure of it... she whispered. I'll get you both out of here.  
  
And I cried with her until Heero and Mr. Yuy got back from the long walk to the store, the grocery bags in their arms dropping to the grass as they ran foward to check and see if anyone was hurt.  
  
The Yuy and Maxwell family suffered through the shock of a lifetime when Heero announced just this year that we were dating, but never once have they turned away from me or Heero. The shock settled off about two months after we had announced it, and then everything was back to normal; Mrs. Yuy continued giving me these small grins whenever she would catch us kissing, which mortified us both, but she made it even worse with her commentary.  
  
Love birds, love birds, you must eat something... unless, of course...  
  
That woman knows exaclty how to make me blush.  
  
Our friends were shocked at first, too, Wufei continually stating that he thought I was the master of female-ism, his words... not mine. Heero had the decency to tell him that that was still true, but that I had also gotten a degree in the functional parts of the male anatomy. Quatre and his girlfriend had laughed at that, Trowa had simply rolled his eyes, and Wufei had walked off down the street before anyone could tell him to stop.  
  
Congrats, you both. Never thought I'd see this day... Quatre's always a sweetie with words. Not... But I don't want to see you two tonguing anymore than I want to see Mei and her bitch do it, so please don't.  
  
After that calm statement, Quatre had slapped Heero's ass and snaked his arm out to pinch one of my nipples.  
  
Rich-boys Gone Wild-- coming to a video store near you. Rated R for sexuality and bad jokes.  
  
Everything fell back into place like it had always been between us. There was no tension and they didn't find it uncomfortable to be around us, so life was back to normal without Heero and I losing our great friends.  
  
I guess that's what being a friend is, right? Accepting everything of them, no matter how shocking.  
  
Our lives may be completely different, but we're all one in the same. There's no dancing around the fact that you can have friends in high or low places. It doesn't matter what anyone says, because in some way, we all love each other. Some more than others, wink wink.  
  
I wouldn't trade them for all the money in the world, you know?  
  
It's hard to find to great friends, and much harder to find great friends from diverse environments. If I had to choose over living in a place like Que's and having to give up my friends, or living in my current house and keeping all these great people in my life, I would stay where I am because I'm at a point in my life where I'm happy and content with the way things are going.  
  
Do I want bigger and better things to happen? Of course.  
  
But not if my friends won't remain my friends. I'd rather go nowhere and love this small group forever if that's what it takes.  
  
I've found love, and strong friendship... I won't hesitate to admit that in my life, at this time, I'm genuinely happy. 


End file.
